


Braids

by testifytime



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testifytime/pseuds/testifytime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a warm day in Amaranthine. With everyone outside, Nathaniel takes the time to draw Anders to his bedroom - not for any bedroom play, but to braid his hair and spend a few quiet moments with his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Braids

**Author's Note:**

> This is slightly old. It's potentially one of the best things I have written to date, and I love it, but please be aware of this fact; I may have missed some things while proof reading it. 
> 
> I also can't remember if I posted this on my Tumblr, but just in case I haven't, I thought I'd post it here.

“Just so you know, I’ve already got a fireball ready. It’s right there, at the tips of my fingers. Just in case you were planning on anything. Not that I don’t trust you, of course. Because I do. Trust you. But the fireball’s still there.”

 

Nathaniel shook his head as he carefully lead Anders through the halls of the keep, fingers curled around the mage’s wrist loosely. If he wanted to fight back and flee, he could easily slip his hand away and turn tail, but for all of Anders’ nerves and complaining his hand remained in a steady fist.

 

“I am well aware of the fireball, Anders. You have been telling me about it since we started out on this short journey from the training fields. Constantly.”

 

“Oh.” Anders went silent for a moment, and a brief glance back at him showed the slightly embarrassed flush staining the mage’s cheeks, “Well. The point still stands. Fireball, just in case.”

 

Nathaniel snorted softly and tugged on Anders’ wrist lightly, speeding up his steps as they reached a flight of stairs. It was a beautiful day at the Keep, the sun shining bright and warm on the lands as a gentle breeze brushed against their skin, keeping them cool and stopping the air from feeling humid. Everyone, including the Warden Commander, for once, was outside, enjoying the sun as much as they could – even from here, Nathaniel could hear the clash of metal and resounding cheers from the practice fields outside, and the grunts of men and women as they threw themselves at one another in violent combat.

 

With everyone outside, inside, it was blessedly quiet.

 

Safely up the flight of stairs, Nathaniel let his hand slide down from Anders’ wrist to gently clasp the mage’s own, smiling to himself as Anders shifted the grip to thread their fingers together, the gaps between them fitting the shape of each digit perfectly. He felt Anders squeeze his hand, a barely-there pressure across his knuckles, and slowly tightened his grip.

 

“Where are we going, Nate?” Anders asked softly, his steps speeding up to stand beside Nathaniel instead of behind him. He slowed down for the mage with a smile, eyes flickering around nervously for a moment, before he deemed it safe enough to relax.

 

“My quarters,” he mumbled to Anders, leaning up to brush his lips across his lover’s stubbled cheek, lips tingling as the soft skin rubbed against coarse hair, “As I told you this morning, had you been listening.”

 

“I thought you said we weren’t going to be engaging in any ‘strenuous’ activities until tonight?” Anders’ tone was teasing and light as his lips pulled up into a grin, lifting their joined hands to rub at his cheek, “Soppy bastard,” he fondly accused.

 

“We will not.” Nathaniel laughed at Anders’ confused look, squeezing the mage’s hand gently as he leant up to brush his lips against Anders’ cheek once more, smirking at the faked gagging noises that followed, “Trust me, Anders,” he whispered as he pulled away, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of the mage’s mouth, “You will enjoy what follows, but it will not involve a bed.”

 

Anders fell silent for a moment, an uncertain look dancing around in his eyes, before, slowly, he nodded. “Alright, Nate. I trust you. But my fireball’s still there, just in case.”

 

“Just in case,” Nathaniel agreed, pulling Anders further down the Keep’s halls.

 

Anders slowed down as they reached the end of the hall, turning one corner to the left, down another side hall, and into a darker corridor, secluded from the rest of the Keep. Nathaniel smiled as he made his way towards the door at the end. It had, as a child, been his favourite place to hide, and even now very few people knew where it was, or even how to find it.

 

“I’ll never know why you like dark and cobwebs so much,” Anders frowned as he brushed a small cobweb from the feathers on his robes, nose crinkling slightly in disgust. “It’s all musty. And it smells.”

 

“I like the seclusion, Anders,” Nathaniel said patiently as he reached the door to his room, gently tugging on Anders’ hand to get him moving again when he stopped just a few feet away, eyes flickering from the room to Nathaniel warily, “And it hardly smells any worse than that cat of yours.”

 

“Ser Pounce-A-Lot is a noble beast!” Anders objected, letting himself be tugged into the room with one final, wary glance back down the hallway. “And he does not smell. Oghren’s much worse than Pounce, anyway.”

 

Nathaniel gave a soft hum of agreement as he finally let go of Anders’ hand, shutting the door behind him. His room, dark for now as the curtain was closed, had very little in it, limited to a bed shoved into the top left corner with a small table beside it and a chest beside that. Along the right-hand wall was a tall set of three bookcases, filled with the books Nathaniel had loved to read as a child, thankfully left alone after all the time that had passed. A small, plain dresser sat in the bottom right corner, battered and dusty after so many years of neglect.

 

With a quiet noise of thought, Nathaniel walked across the room to pull open the curtains, blinding himself momentarily as bright light poured into the room. Anders hissed behind him, eyes squinting against the sun, as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, the wide space making him seem very small as he hunched in on himself nervously.

 

“Well, we’re here. What… What were you planning?”

 

Nathaniel walked towards the desk pressed against the wall at the foot of his bed, plucking the chair from its position and dragging it to the centre of the room. He sat down in it with feline grace, giving Anders a toothy grin at the mage’s raised eyebrow, and opened his legs wide, gesturing to the space between.

 

“Sit down, Anders. Trust me.”

 

Anders stood for a few hesitant moments, eyes flickering to the door briefly as he rubbed his hand across his right arm, cupping his elbow as he hunched in on himself a fraction more, a sign of his uncertainty. Slowly, carefully, he dropped himself to his knees and shuffled forwards until he sat between Nathaniel’s legs, looking up at the rogue with trusting honey eyes.

 

Nathaniel gently took Anders’ face in his hands, long fingers sliding under his jaw as his thumbs caressed the mage’s cheeks. He waited until Anders let out a shaky breath, until his eyes slid closed and his shoulders relaxed, to lean down and brush his lips across Anders’ forehead.

 

“The other way, Anders,” he murmured breathlessly as he pulled away, letting his hands trail down Anders’ neck before placing them on his knees.

 

Anders stared up at him for a moment, searching his eyes for something that Nathaniel waited patiently for him to find, his gaze steady until Anders eventually smiled and ducked his head as he turned around. A gentle push against the middle of his back had Anders shuffling forwards just a little bit more, so that he was framed by Nathaniel’s legs but not encompassed by them.

 

Tension had bunched in Anders’ shoulders during the turn, his back stock straight instead of slumped in relaxation as Nathaniel had hoped. He sighed softly as he shook his head, dexterous fingers reaching out to gently touch the base of Anders’ neck.

 

“Trust me, Anders.” Nathaniel pleaded him softly, bending forwards to press a soft kiss to the top of Anders’ head, letting his eyes slide shut as the scent of berries and poultices invaded his senses.

 

Silence reigned for a tense few seconds, Nathaniel’s hands working gently to massage the back of Ander’s neck with his thumbs in smooth, circular motions, before eventually, Anders’ shoulders slumped, and he released a shaky breath.

 

“I do.”

 

Nathaniel swallowed thickly as he pulled back, giving Anders’ shoulders a gentle squeeze as he drew himself away.

 

The first touch to his hair made the mage jump in surprise, his head twisting around to give Nathaniel a confused look. He opened his mouth to protest, but Nathaniel shushed him gently, strong hands turning Anders’ head to compliantly face the front once more.

 

“Trust me, Anders,” he reminded the mage.

 

The second touch received a much smaller jump, but Anders did not turn around. Nathaniel smiled proudly as he carefully dug his fingers into the hair of Anders’ ponytail, gripping the base of the strands as he rolled the cord off the other end, pausing only when Anders hissed through his teeth as a strand got caught and tugged.

 

He let go of the strands and watched, awed, as they cascaded down in a river of red-gold, the longest tips just slightly brushing against the base of Anders’ neck. There was a slight rise in the length of hair, knots and tangles from where it had been tied up. With great tenderness, Nathaniel ran his fingers through the beautifully silken strands, taking out each twist in the golden strands as he could. He marvelled, for a moment, at the reddish tint that moved across Anders’ hair with the sunlight, and wondered how much effort Anders must have put into his looks each day for his hair to feel like water as Nathaniel’s fingers passed through it.

 

Under the attention of Nathaniel’s capable hands, Anders had relaxed almost fully. His eyes, Nathaniel saw, were closed in bliss, his mouth partly opened as he sighed and breathed with each gentle brush against his scalp. Curiously, Nathaniel pushed his fingers through golden strands to rub the tips of them against the base of Anders’ skull. The reaction was immediate; Anders took a deep, shaky inhale, released it on a quiet moan, and let himself fall back slightly into Nathaniel’s hands, head tipped backwards so that his throat was stretched, each swallow he took making the bob in his throat move, more pronounced.

 

Excitement thrummed through Nathaniel’s body as he reached, with shaking hands, for the brush on the table by his bedside, steadying his grip on a deep breath as he turned back towards Anders, who had hardly moved as he laid his head against Nathaniel’s thigh.

 

Nathaniel reached out to brush the backs of his fingers across Anders’ stubbled cheek, thumb tracing the line of a cheekbone as Anders blearily opened his eyes, smiling lazily up at Nathaniel as he allowed the rogue to position him back upright. Nate had to use his knees to keep Anders in place, the mage too boneless in his relaxation to do it himself.

 

The brush, one that his sister had been fond of as a child, slid as easily through Anders’ hair as his fingers had, soft but compact bristles gliding across the mage’s scalp, massaging and removing any small tangles and knots Nathaniel had not been able to remove himself.

 

Once Anders was suitably relaxed once more, soft, throaty noises like purrs escaping past his parted lips, Nathaniel took the brush and parted sections of Anders’ hair, tying the strands in lose bows to keep them separated as he worked out the size of each part, brush smoothing out anything he pushed out of sorts or tangled by mistake.

 

Placing the brush so that it balanced on his leg, in case he required it for future mistakes, Nathaniel took the section closest to Anders’ left side of his face and split the section into three, using the fingers of both hands to keep them apart. Then, with swift movements, he began to braid the strands together, twisting one strand of hair to the other, fingers rhythmically moving up and down.

 

With the braid complete, Nathaniel took the brush in hand and pulled a small piece of cord from the handle, using it to tie the braid together in a braid of its own, the slight redness to the brown leather matching the reddish tints in Anders’ hair far better than he had hoped.

 

Nathaniel completed the braid on the other side with as much ease and speed as he had the first one, his breathing even and slow, as calm and content with the silk of Anders’ hair brushing against his fingertips as Anders himself was in letting Nathaniel tie the second cord in the same fashion around the second braid. He tied it off as he had with the first, sliding his fingers across both braids critically before allowing himself to smile, pleased with his own work; the two strands framed Anders’ face well, thin yet wide across his temples and down to his cheeks.

 

Anders made a soft noise through his nose as Nathaniel’s fingers brushed against his face, tilting his head slightly to nuzzle into his palm. The rogue chuckled in amusement as he reached down to cup his hand beneath Anders’ chin, pulling the mage’s head up so that he could brush their lips together. Anders lifted his hand up to thread through Nathaniel’s hair as he pressed into the kiss, deepening it slightly as he flicked his tongue out to lap across Nathaniel’s lips, drawing a chuckle from him as he leant down to press their lips together fully, tongue sliding across Anders’ teeth teasingly before he pulled away, huffing his amusement at the keening whine his retreat drew from the mage.

 

“Let me finish, first,” Nathaniel breathed, carding his fingers through the looser strands of red-gold hair. Anders made another soft whine, but merely turned his head to kiss Nathaniel’s palm, sitting up comfortably once more with a soft, hushed, _hurry_.

 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Nathaniel picked up the hairbrush and drew all of Anders’ loose hair into a low bunch, picking up the cord that always adorned the mage’s hair and tying the strands together deftly. He pulled it tight, the hair pressed close to Anders’ head, as he brushed out the strands left in the ponytail, lips drawing taut and brow furrowing in concentration as he counted out the six knots he’d put into Anders’ hair, separating them all once more as he carefully undid the knot of one.

 

Nathaniel listened to Anders’ calm breathing as he braided the six little strands of the ponytail, a soft smile slowly crawling across his lips. The sun was still warm on his back, the voices from the practice fields distant but still clear. He could hear, now, the soft tweets of a bird in song, perched somewhere outside the window, along with the playful barking of the dogs in the kennels off in the distance, and the soft rush of water in the stream down below. It was a serene setting, a peaceful one, and made all the better as he tied the final piece of thin cord to the last of the six braids.

 

Anders seemed as if he were falling half asleep, his face so relaxed and open. Nathaniel quickly picked up a piece of golden ribbon from his dresser, measuring it carefully as he cut off a small strip of it, and tied it in a bow around the biggest cord in Anders’ hair. And with that, Nathaniel decided, he was done.

 

“Anders,” he murmured quietly, gently shaking the mage’s shoulder to wake him. He watched with a fond smile as Anders slowly blinked open his bleary eyes, rubbing the sleep from them and shaking his head briefly, drawing himself fully away from the Fade.

 

“Are you done?” Nathaniel nodded at Anders’ sleep-laden question, reaching over towards his bed to pick up a hand mirror. He placed it just in front of Anders’ face, angling it so that he could see what Nathaniel had done to his hair, a hopeful little grin on his face.

 

Anders raised a hand towards his head, tilting it this way and that, eyes wide as he took in the braids from every angle he could see. The longer he looked, the wider a smile grew on his lips, and the more the crows’ feet around his eyes crinkled with delight, until eventually he was grinning from ear to ear as he turned around in Nathaniel’s arms.

 

“You’re good at that, you know,” Anders commented as he sat up on his knees, wrapping his arms around Nathaniel’s neck to thread his fingers through the rogue’s back hair, “I’d say you’ve done this before.”

 

“I did have a sister, Anders,” He reminded the mage with a fond chuckle, placing the mirror and brush carefully down onto the floor as he took Anders’ chin in his finger and thumb, tilting the mage’s head up so that he could brush their lips together in the lightest of kisses. “She made sure that I knew how to braid the very back of her hair, because the maids, she said, were completely incompetent at it.”

 

“You big softie,” Anders teased with a snicker, laughing against Nathaniel’s lips as the rogue rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.

 

“I think I much prefer you when you are quiet, mage.”

 

“Well,” Anders let himself be drawn in closer by the hold on his chin, voice barely above a low whisper, “We both know a good way to do that, don’t we?”

 

Nathaniel smirked as he tilted Anders’ chin up, drawing the mage in for a soft kiss. Anders quickly drew him in deeper, one hand cupping Nathaniel’s jaw just below his ear as he coaxed Nathaniel’s tongue to swipe past his lips, Anders’ teeth thankfully bypassed as Nathaniel pressed forward, devouring Anders with lips and teeth and tongue until the two of them were breathing heavily through their noses.

 

They parted only when the need for air become too much, and even then they kept their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed as they panted against each other’s lips, noses sliding past each other as they rocked slowly together.

 

“I told you, didn’t I, Anders?” Nathaniel enquired after a few moments of silence, opening his eyes to see honey orbs already staring intently at him. A smile twitched at Nathaniel’s lips as he murmured, “Trusting me can lead to good things. With or without threats of fireballs.”

 

Anders’ face broke out into a wide grin as he buried his face in Nathaniel’s shoulder and laughed. 


End file.
